That Time
by Disillusioned Dreamer
Summary: Her life as she knew it was over. She might loose her best friend and she had definitely lost her dignity. A choice Olivia makes one night drastically alters the course of her life. How will she deal with it? EO
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own them. Don't really own anything except this piano of mine but I'm thinking of giving that up considering my teacher called me up and yelled at me for about three minutes this afternoon without any real reason. Seriously.**

**I came up with this idea for a story a couple of days ago and I don't know if it's any good so the continuation (or otherwise) depends on the opinons of _you_! **

She should have resisted him. She should have fought him harder. She should have done everything differently tonight; then she wouldn't be lying stock still in her bed, unable to sleep and knowing that her world would never be the same again.

* * *

The water boiled ferociously, causing both water and pasta to cascade down the side of the saucepan. The glass fell and shattered on the floor as an arm collided with it to save the pasta. And just as Olivia was about to salvage what remained of her dinner, the phone started ringing. She might not be a cook, but Olivia sure as hell was a multitasker. And she owned a cordless phone. 

"Hello?" Olivia answered, taking the saucepan off the stove and sadly noting that the pasta was a lost cause, instead grabbing a dustpan and broom to sweep up the broken glass.

"Hey, Liv."

"Elliot," Olivia stopped sweeping for a second as her stomach did its routine Elliot-related somersault. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to forget that I'm at home alone on a Friday night."

"The same as me, then."

"Well, if we're both doing the same thing, we might as well be doing it together. Do you want to come over?"

Olivia looked around at her distraught kitchen. There was no way she had to think twice about that answer.

"Sure. Why not? I'll be there soon."

* * *

There was no doubt about it: Olivia definitely liked Elliot. A lot. The several beers she had consumed only made her more aware of that fact. She realised it when they both laughed at the same time in the movie. She couldn't help but realise it every time they touched each other-accidentally or not-and the normal tingles progressed into a searing heat. And she realised it whenever they were talking and he'd look intently at her, like he really cared about what she had to say. She'd always liked Elliot, that was no surprise, but by the time he walked her to her car, Olivia was almost willing to admit that she was in love with him. 

"Are you sure you're okay to be driving home, Liv?" Elliot asked.

"Of course-there's a difference between drunk and tipsy, Elliot, and I," Olivia said proudly, "am tipsy."

"Glad to hear it,"Elliot said, slightly bemused at the effect of three beers on Olivia. It was like she'd drunk on an empty stomach or something.

Olivia looked up at Elliot, about to say something, but her words were cut short by a look of surprise as she stumbled over a piece of uneven pavement. Elliot quickly reached out for her, steadying her in his arms while trying to ignore the seunsual scent of her perfume tantalising his nose and the way his arms seemed to fit perfectly around her.

"And you still think you're fine to drive home?" Elliot asked, his voice coming out lower, softer and less mockingly than he'd intended.

Olivia was about to defend herself, tell him that uneven pavemet in a dimly lit street was a danger to the most sober of people, but this idea quickly faded as she realised Elliot's arms were still around her. He was holdiong her closer and longer than he should have but that didn't bother Olivia. What bothered her was that sooner or later, Elliot would have to let go and this incredible feeling of safety enveloping her would vanish. So Olivia remained silent, afraid of breaking the spell, and instead found herself looking into Elliot's eyes that were gazing back of her with that deep intensity of his.

"Olivia..." Elliot whispered, instantly forgetting what he was going to say and why he'd even said her name in the first place. All he knew was what he wanted to do-it was the same thing he'd wanted to do since God knows when-and he could feel all of his self restraint disappearing.

He kissed her. One second he was saying her name and the next thing she knew, his lips were against hers. Olivia had dreamt of how it would feel if he kissed her, and now that it was happening, it surpassed all imagination.

She shouldn't have kissed back but she did. She reciprocated the urgency he showed her, tongues exploring new mouths for the first time. Her hands ran up his muscular arms, locking themselves around his neck as she breathed in the faint smell of his aftershave that would have a different meaning to her from now on. It was no longer an aftershave to dream to, but an aftershave to remember to. Then, as soon as it started, it finished. Olivia looked up at Elliot, trying to read the expression on his face.

"I don't think you should be driving home," Elliot said gruffly.

She should have left then. Before it could go any further. But she had been waiting for something like this to happen for so long and her emotions were drowning out her logic. She looked into Elliot's eyes and she knew she couldn't bear to leave.

"Definitely not in the right state," Olivia agreed.

Elliot released his grip on Olivia, sliding one of his hands down to grasp hers.

"We should probably take this inside," he said.

Olivia nodded and allowed Elliot to lead her inside. It wasn't the first time he'd held her hand but there was something about tonight, something about his warm, firm grip on her that blocked out the rest of the world, leaving her feeling as though she was floating on air. She'd never felt so light on her feet or so feminine as she did at that moment.

Neither spoke a word as Elliot led Olivia to his bedroom. Letting go of her hand, he closed the door behind him before turning to face Olivia. He opened his mouth, about to ask her if she was sure of this, but before he had the chance, Olivia had attached her lips to his again.

Elliot decided there was no need to ask that question.

* * *

Olivia lay completely silent and still in bed as the sound of Elliot's light snores drifted over to her. _What had she done?_ She'd been loved more than she'd ever been loved before but she'd also been guided by her passions more than she'd ever been before. She was normally such a controlled, rational person and here she was, having slept with her best friend and partner at work because she'd been unable to control her desire. So many things could go wrong from here: her realtionship with Elliot might be ruined and she could loose her best friend. Elliot might want to forget this ever happened-or, perhaps equally as bad, he might not. 

Her head was spinning. Her logic still hadn't returned. Olivia tried closing her eyes for a moment, in a desperate attempt to wish everything away, but when she opened her eyes, she was still in Elliot's room, lying next to Elliot, in Elliot's bed. There was too much Elliot. She had to get out.

Slowly, Olivia rolled over and out of the bed, being careful not to wake Elliot. She grabbed her clothes, strewn all over the room, and slipped out into the bathroom before getting dressed. She looked at herself in the mirror, hearing the same words over and over: _What have you done? What have you done? _What_ have you _done

The instant she got dressed, Olivia escaped from Elliot's as quickly as she could, practically running to her car. The cold night air mixed with her flood of emotions did not mix, and she leaned against her car, closing her eyes for several seconds as dizziness cursed through her.

She couldn't drive. Not like this, not when her thoughts were a mess and she was dizzy with stress and confusion. But she had to get home. The only solution Olivia could think of was going for a quick walk around the block to see if it helped her gather her thoughts.

If her logic had returned, Olivia would have known that walking around New York, unarmed, at one in the morning was never a good idea. If her logic had returned, Olivia would have heard the footsteps steadily keeping in time with her own. If her logic had returned, Olivia would have noticed the footsteps increasing in pace. And if her logic had returned, there was no way Olivia would have leant against the side of that building and closed her eyes for several seconds as another wave of dizziness hit her.

It all happened so quickly. One second, she could feel nothing but the cold night air on her face, the next instant, a strong hand was gripping her two hands together while what she assumed to be a handkerchief covered her face. Olivia gasped in surprise-her first mistake: the instant she gasped, a sickly sweet smell engulfed her mouth. She tried to fight back, she tried to break away from his grasp, but concentrating so much on her movements had the result of Olivia forgetting not to breathe. She was being pushed into a nearby alley and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do a damn thing. With every attempted jab at her attacker, Olivia would involuntarily draw in breath and it wasn't long before she reached a state where she could not fight back.

As she drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness, Olivia could hear from what seemed to be a far off distance, the sound of a fly being undone. Before she lost all consciousness, the thought drifted through Olivia's mind: _Chloroform...how quaint...how trite..._

* * *

Olivia never quite understood how she got home safely that night. She woke up maybe an hour later, half naked and with a terrible headache, still in the alley. As soon as she stood up, a wave of nausea hit her that she could not fight, and she threw up, her entire body shaking from the vomiting, disbelief and fear. But instinct kicked in, and she realised that she had to protect herself and get to her car. Pushing what had just happened and how she felt aside, Olivia somehow managed to run all the way back to her car and climb in. She drove home, still refusing to think about what had just happened, nearly running into several different cars before finally arriving at the safety of her building. 

She stumbled up to her flat, ensuring every lock was secured, before she succumbed again to nausea in her bathroom. She stepped into the shower, refusing to look at herself in the mirror, and spent what felt like hours trying to scrub the night away. She didn't care if she washed away evidence. She wasn't going to report the rape, anyway. All she wanted to do right now was fall into bed and try to forget everything that had happened tonight. She didn't want to spend the next million hours reliving every moment of what happened. She didn't want her squad to know that she'd been raped in Elliot's area because she'd just slept with her partner.

Olivia tucked herself into bed, pushing aside every single piece of advice she had given to every rape victim she had spoken to. She didn't care if it made her a hypocrite. For the second time that night, Olivia made what she wanted the focus, rather than what she knew was right. Perhaps she'd feel differently in the morning, but Olivia wasn't the sort of person to just change her mind constantly.

Her life as she knew it was over. She might loose her best friend and she had definitely lost her dignity. It wasn't until she felt something warm and wet land on her chest that she realised she was crying.

Olivia Benson would now be able to relate to victims more than she ever could before.

**Like I said, I'm not totally sure if I should keep going with this story so please let me know what you think! Review!! (Please.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A big, big, **** thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter so long ago.**** I was very excited to get them. Please keep reviewing because they make me so, so happy! And I want to say thank you to Michelle because your review made my day. Especially considering I could swear I have been unable to write all year.**

**This chapter is for "New Castle" who influenced several of the additions in here and because she has a lifetime supply of pot. ****(...Not really.)**

Elliot drove through the streets of New York, barely conscious of the traffic around him. Where he was heading was a destination he knew as well as the back of his hand. He was sure he could drive there in his sleep. What had just happened was something that was _not_ so familiar to him. What _had_ happened? One second he'd been asleep, and the next he was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing and the overwhelming scent of Olivia.

He was sure at first that he had just been dreaming. He could not see any reason as to why his room should smell so strongly of her. But as he rolled over onto the next pillow to answer the phone and the smell of Olivia's hair and perfume came crashing even more strongly into his nose, so too did the memories of last night crash back into his mind. The feel of her lips against his. Her fingertips tracing his body. His body engulfing hers. The memories collided with one another and Elliot groaned, aware of the complications that were going to arise from not only sleeping with his best friend but also falling in love with her.

He could barely pay attention to what Cragen was telling him-something about another attack somewhere-until Olivia's name came up.

"I've tried calling Olivia," Cragen was saying, "but her cell was turned off and her phone was engaged."

Elliot's heart constricted as a million possibilities flowed through his head: what if she had never made it home? Or what if she _had _made it home but something had happened there? It would be so much harder to lose her now that he knew her fully-now that he knew how she felt. Beneath each concern was the underlying theme: _what if something had happened to Olivia and he hadn't been there to protect her?_

Without hesitation, Elliot told Cragen he'd go over to Liv's-check up on her and then take her to the crime scene. That was how he found himself here, standing in front of the door to her apartment while he unlocked it with his key. He was too concerned to try buzzing her, to see if she'd be there to let him in. All he could think about was the smell she had left in his room-an earthy but feminine scent: roses mixed with coconuts mixed with something else he couldn't put his finger on-and how he'd rather die than never be able to breathe that in again. He would face all of the difficulties that were sure to result from last night just as long as she was okay.

He barged into her apartment, not noticing the fact that every single light had been left on and every door closed. He headed for her bedroom, praying with desperation that she would be there when he opened the door.

"Liv?" Elliot called out, opening the door.

He could have cried with relief when he saw her body just rousing from sleep in her bed, watching as the sleepy confusion in her eyes morphed into angry defence.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Olivia gasped, sitting bolt upright in her bed and clutching her sheets to her.

"Cragen couldn't get onto you," Elliot explained, feeling confused himself at her mood. "So I told him I'd check on you myself. We have a new case."

"Give me a few minutes to get ready," Olivia mumbled, sounding annoyed still and carefully avoiding his eyes.

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief when Elliot left the room. She didn't want to be around him because she didn't trust herself with him. If she looked in his eyes, Olivia knew that would be all she'd need to break down and seek comfort in his arms after what had happened last night. And she didn't want to break down _or_ recall last night-she just wanted to keep living her life. Even if she had to push away the one person she allowed herself to love.

* * *

Melinda Warner was already examining the victim's body by the time Elliot and Olivia arrived after their silent trip. When they got in the car, Elliot was going to suggest they talk about last night, but Olivia had been so icy, so cold that she had reduced him to silence as well. He spent the rest of the ride confused, wondering if their sleeping together alone could produce such out of character behaviour in her. Needless to say, it was a relief for both of them to finally be amongst other people, even if it was for a rape and murder case.

Olivia walked briskly, staying several paces ahead of Elliot while he trailed behind, trying desperately to focus on the case rather than her. Warner was busy telling them her current conclusions but the words disappeared around Elliot, lost in his own world. He hoped Olivia was paying more attention than him.

"Abrasions to upper thigh," Warner started.

_Elliot ran his hands through Olivia's soft hair, looking deeply in her eyes to ensure that she was ready._

She had to concentrate. She had to remove herself from the situation. But Olivia couldn't look at the body or listen to Warner without the thought running through her head: _this could have been me_.

"Shot twice in the chest."

_Olivia nodded, gazing into Elliot's eyes with such love and trust that he wondered how they both could have waited so long before giving in to their passion._

She swallowed hard. Tried to ignore the numbness seeping into her body and the dizziness clouding her mind. She'd never had trouble being strong before but Olivia didn't know how much longer she could take this.

"Dead for about four hours, I think."

_He entered her, their love finally consummated. Olivia moaned and both knew that from that moment on, nothing would be the same._

The dizziness got worse. So did the numbness. She needed to grasp onto something-anything. Her hand clutched the first thing it could find.

Elliot felt her hand grasping his arm, surprised that her mood could change as suddenly as that. He looked over at her only to be met with her ashen face and unfocused eyes.

"I think..I-"

Elliot took her body in his arms a moment before she passed out. Fear infiltrated his body as he carried Olivia somewhere to lay her down, barely aware of where he was going.

Gently, he laid her down and it was only then that he noticed her sleeves had slipped back enough to reveal angry bruises circling both wrists. He knew without doubt that those bruises hadn't been there when she was at his place. He breathed slowly, trying to concentrate on his inhalations and exhalations, unaware that Warner had just come up to check Olivia.

Elliot's heart constricted with simultaneous pain and fury as he realised that Olivia's mood had nothing to do with him.

**Updates should hopefully be a bit more regular for the next month or so because I'm on holidays for the next five weeks before my final semester of school. (Thank God.) Providing I have enough motivation. And providing the plot's okay. So, if you think it's worth continuing, you know what to do to keep me motivated...**

**(I'll give you a hint: it starts with r and ends in w and has a nifty little button to do this right underneath...)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to all the reviewers of the last chapter and I'm sorry there was such a long break! What with finishing school a couple of months ago and a million and one other things, my life has been slightly crazy. But as a New Year's resolution, I am going to really, really try to update this more frequently and I have more of an idea of where this is going now. (Finally...it just took eight months!)**

**Anyway-I hope you enjoy!**

By the time Olivia's eyes fluttered open, Melinda had decided that it was little more than exhaustion or a slight illness that had caused Olivia to faint.

"...should take the day off," Olivia heard Melinda say before she worked up the strength to open her eyes.

"What?" Olivia mumbled, trying to sit herself up while ignoring the fact that Elliot was right beside her.

"Just lie down for another minute," Melinda said, gently pushing Olivia back down as Olivia frowned at how humiliating this situation was. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Olivia said, hating the fact that her voice sounded so weak and quiet.

"You're not dizzy?" Melinda asked. "You don't feel unwell?"

"No."

"Well, I think you should take today off," Melinda said. "Go home and get some rest."

"I'm fine, really," Olivia insisted, sitting herself up. And I need to work on this case."

"Someone else can take it," Elliot said.

"You really should go home, Olivia," Melinda said.

The words of Melinda and Elliot's conversation passed through Olivia while her eyes grew heavier and heavier. Her body ached with tiredness and all energies went into trying to stay awake. She barely noticed Elliot taking her to his car. All of her problems seemed to float away as she slid into the car seat and gave in to the inexorable pulling of her eyes. Maybe sleep was almost as good an escape as work, Olivia decided. Whatever the case, by the time Elliot arrived back at Olivia's, she had well and truly escaped.

As Elliot lay Olivia in her bed and watched her sleeping, he was tempted to lie with her, to see if having a body next to her could remove that troubled frown creasing her forehead. But he figured she'd be pissed enough anyway when she discovered that he'd also taken the day off to take care of her, and he didn't need any more wood for the fire. Instead, he settled for softly kissing her frown before leaving the room.

He sat himself down on the couch, almost smiling as he saw a few copies of _People_ strewn across the coffee table. Everyone needs an escape-especially a trashy one-he reckoned. He picked up a copy and started leafing through it, but it was no use. Every face he saw was Olivia's; any splash of purple was the reminder of the bruises circling her wrists and every man he saw was the person he failed to protect Olivia from. Grief and anger rose up in Elliot as he tried to push out a million and one thoughts circling his mind as to how Olivia got the bruises. He let out a groan before the cushion next to him became the victim of his fury.

As Olivia slowly woke up, the first thought to filter through her mind was that there was a strong possibility she was dying. Her eyes did not want to open, every part of her body ached and seemed to press heavily against her bed, and her throat felt raw, scratchy and dry. Olivia groaned which only caused her to cringe as she'd forgotten how tender her throat was.

Well, this day was off to one hell of a start, Olivia decided, using all her strength to open her eyes. Olivia gave a start as she read the time, convinced she'd seen wrong. How could it be 4.03pm?

Suddenly, it all came back to her. The early morning case, the fainting. Everything.

She briefly covered her face with her hands before rolling over and getting out of bed. Nothing she could do now would change what had happened, so the best thing she could do was take care of herself and pretend that the night in question had never existed.

Olivia walked out into her living room and had to stifle a scream as she saw someone sitting on her couch, looking through her magazines.

"What the fuck?" Olivia gasped, clutching the seat in front of her for support. She'd realised it was Elliot about a millisecond after she'd suppressed the urge to scream but she still wanted to know what the fuck Elliot was doing in her apartment.

"We thought it would be a good idea to have someone keep an eye on you-it was pretty obvious you were unwell," Elliot said, getting the gist of her question.

" 'We'?" Olivia asked with a degree of scepticism.

"Okay...me," Elliot said sheepishly. "I thought I should take the day off with you."

"Okay, well, I'm fine," Olivia said quickly, going to get some juice from her kitchen.

Elliot remained on the couch, waiting for her to come back.

"I don't need a baby-sitter," Olivia said when she returned. "You can leave now."

"Liv," Elliot said gently, walking up to her, "you're not fine."

Olivia frowned, trying her damn hardest not to let Elliot break down her facade; her defence.

"You can pretend all you like but don't think for a second that I can't see past your act," Elliot said softly. "I know you pretty well, Liv. Very well."

"What do you want?" Olivia asked tiredly. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"I want you to sit down and talk to me," Elliot said firmly.

Somehow, and Olivia could never quite explain it, she allowed Elliot's hand on the small of her back to guide her back to her couch.

"I thought at first that you were pushing me away because of what we did last night," Elliot began. "And, you know, at some point we're gonna have to talk about it. But I think there's something bigger we need to deal with."

A flicker of fear passed through Olivia's eyes as she wondered if somehow-who knew how-Elliot had discovered what had occurred after she left his house.

Elliot took Olivia's hand and pushed up the long sleeve, revealing those still angry, still painful bruises.

"These bruises were not there last night," Elliot said quietly. He raised his eyes, laden with fury and grief, to Olivia's. "Who the _hell_ did this to you?"

Olivia yanked her arm from Elliot's grasp, hurriedly pushing her sleeve back down. She racked her brain for a prompt excuse but nothing came to mind.

"Tell me, Olivia," Elliot demanded, his fears confirmed by the fact that she had not given him an immediate excuse. "Tell me who hurt you."

"It's none of your business!" Olivia exclaimed. "And even if something _did_ happen-why would I tell you? Because you'd handle it so well?"

"I _care_ about you! I'm _worried_ about you!" Elliot proclaimed. "Something happened and I wasn't fucking there to protect you! Let me make it up to you by helping you."

Olivia stood up and quickly walked to her door, opening it for Elliot.

"Nothing happened," Olivia insisted. "Now, you can help me by getting the hell out of my apartment."

"I'm not going anywhere," Elliot said.

Olivia was about to leave Elliot in her apartment with his stubbornness and get out, but just as she put a foot out her door, she realised that she was in her pyjamas.

"Did you change me into my pyjamas?" Olivia asked Elliot incredulously, slamming her door shut.

Elliot nodded.

"You son of a bitch," Olivia muttered, going into her bathroom.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Elliot called after her.

"Go to hell, Elliot!" Olivia cried out, locking the door.

The good news was that she was too pissed off to cry, Olivia thought as she showered. The bad news was that the tears were still lurking, just waiting for a chance to escape. And knowing how screwed up emotions were, those tears would probably come out at the worst of times.

She took her time with the shower, praying desperately that Elliot's patience (or stubbornness) would wear out and he'd be gone by the time she opened her door. She knew, though, that she was not dealing with a normal person here; she was dealing with a cop who could sit in his car for hours upon hours waiting for an appearance.

Her teeth had never been brushed so well nor had her hair ever been blow dried with suck care, but after every avenue of procrastination had been taken, she had no choice but to get dressed and get out.

Olivia turned, grabbing at the rack where she normally left her clothes only to find that her grasp retrieved nothing more than air. With an exasperated sigh, Olivia secured the towel around her, braced herself for the inevitable Elliot confrontation and opened the door.

Silence was the only thing that met her.

Holding her breath and hardly believing it to be true, Olivia scanned the now empty living room.

Thank God. He was gone.

Olivia made her way to her bedroom, now dying to get into some clean clothes and just be alone. But the second she walked into her bedroom, she let out a frustrated cry at the sight of Elliot sitting on her bed.

"I thought I'd got rid of you!" Olivia cried.

"That easily?" Elliot asked.

"I'm really gonna have to do something about that key I gave you," Olivia muttered, pulling the first outfit she could find out of her wardrobe.

Hovering over her underwear drawer, Olivia was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Elliot was watching her. With a sigh, she turned to face him.

"Elliot, _please_," Olivia said, rubbing her temple. "My mind's...everywhere, I have a headache from this stress and I'm wearing a towel. Please just leave me alone."

Elliot took a step towards her, his heart giving a painful pang as he realised something.

"Has anyone _ever_ taken care of you when things have gone wrong?" Elliot asked quietly.

Olivia took a step forwards to get past him, but Elliot placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, preventing her from taking another step.

"Now, we can talk about it or argue about it," Elliot said, "but I am going to be here for you. Nothing will change that, Olivia. Nothing."

Something inside Olivia broke at the concern in his voice. She _wasn't_ used to being taken care of-she was used to being alone. And at the moment, it looked like trying to be alone was taking up a lot more energy than just being taken care of would. Energy was not something Olivia had in abundance today, and what energy she did have was close to being used up.

In one feeble last attempt to rid herself of Elliot, Olivia took another step forwards. She was meant to step _past_ Elliot but instead, she found herself stepping against him. The next thing she knew, her face was resting on his shoulder, Elliot's arms were wrapped around her and Olivia was crying. Sobbing. Her hands, rolled up into fists, gently pounded against Elliot's chest several times but he just tightened his hold around her, whispering in her ear that he was there and everything was going to be okay.

Eventually, when the crying stopped, Elliot put her in pyjamas for the second time that day. He lay her down in bed, for the second time that day. And for the second time that day, his rage and fury found its release in the cushion on Olivia's couch.

When exhaustion set in and rage wore out, Elliot crept back into Olivia's room. Her breathing was heavy and she tossed and turned, so Elliot lay next to her, placing an arm across her waist for comfort. Almost instantly, Olivia seemed more peaceful and by the time sleep found Elliot, her warm body had found its way right against his own.

Elliot woke up the next morning to the sight of a bowl of cereal beneath his nose.

"Breakfast in bed?" he guessed.

Olivia shrugged. She was dressed and ready for the new day. And she knew what she had to do.

"Look," she said, sitting next to him, "I need to be alone. I really do. I appreciate what you're doing but I just need some time to myself now. So please-when you finish eating; go."

Elliot looked into her eyes, which had assumed a little of the strength he was so used to seeing in them. She looked a bit better. But she still looked like she just needed to be taken care of.

"I'm going out," Olivia said, not waiting for an answer. "Please be gone when I get back. You've pushed your luck enough."

Elliot watched as Olivia left the room. He'd leave, he decided, hearing her door shut behind her. But this wasn't the end. He'd give her some time alone and then get an explanation from her.

Then he'd be able to figure out who the bastard was he had to kill.

Olivia walked into the squad room about two hours after she'd walked out of her apartment. She was on her way to get the morning after pill when Cragen had called, explaining that there'd been a rape and murder during the night and could she please come in because they had a major case on their hands.

Her irritation at being interrupted still hadn't worn away by the time she got there-especially when she saw Elliot and realised they'd have to work together today, and her "What happened?" came out more brusque than normal.

"Linda Hart, a thirty one year old doctor," Cragen explained. "She was an important figure in the New York medical scene. She was found dead late last night in an alley."

"How did it happen?" Olivia asked.

"She was stabbed in the back five times," Munch said. "But we just went to the M.E. and a handkerchief was left at the crime scene. Traces of chloroform were found both on the handkerchief and in the victim's body."

"Traces of what?" Olivia asked.

"Chloroform," Munch repeated. "I know-pretty old fashioned, hey? She also had bruises around her wrists so we think her attacker came from behind and held her back tightly while he administered the chloroform. "

Olivia tuned out at this point. She sat down slowly in her chair as the others continued to talk, not noticing Elliot's eyes on her. She'd been in this game long enough to know that two such similar attacks in two days were not coincidence.

Whoever attacked her was not going to stop at one rape. He'd even advanced to killing.

And now she had to work his case.

**I'm slightly stressed at the moment because university acceptances come out in a fortnight so I may go into a bit of a writing overload, as I tend to do when I am stressed and have nothing else to do. ****If you wanted to help make the next couple of weeks brighter for me, you could hit that little button right under here... (No, I don't lay on the guilt at all...)**


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